


The Last and the First

by acciocliffo



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Year's Resolutions, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciocliffo/pseuds/acciocliffo
Summary: Normal AU where Baz and Simon have been friends since primary school. Simon goes over Baz's for New Year's Eve to confess his feelings for him.





	The Last and the First

**Author's Note:**

> So, in this AU, I decided that both Baz and Simon's moms were alive. Also, Davy ended up getting divorced from Lucy, that's why he's not mentioned much in the story.

The walk to Baz’s is cold and snowy. We didn’t get any snow on Christmas, but it seems that we’re getting all of it now. On New Year’s Eve. Luckily for me, the walk isn’t long. We live about fifteen minutes away from each other by foot. 

I spend every New Year’s Eve with the Pitches. Penelope gets kind of mad at me. She says, “You could spend at least _one_ year at my house.” I always suggest that she comes with, but she always says no. I know it’s because she doesn’t like Baz. 

This year is either going to be the best or the worst. Possibly the end to me and Baz’s friendship. But I’m trying not to think about that. 

I’m at his door now. The Pitches are filthy rich. They basically have a castle. When they moved in, they built their own house on two plots of land. Our neighborhood was nice, but after the Pitches moved in we all looked like we lived below the poverty line. I was just about to start primary school when they moved in. I asked my mom how someone could possibly buy two lots to build one house. She said, “Someone who has the money and the pretentiousness.” I then asked her what pretentiousness meant, but she just laughed and ruffled my hair. 

The first day of school is when I met him. Baz Pitch. He was a little boy with the most beautiful brown skin. At that point I had never seen anyone like him before (until I met Penny). I immediately wanted to be his friend. During lunch, I sat next to him and told him I lived in his neighborhood, and that I liked his house. He smiled at me and extended his hand. We shook and that was that. 

I don’t like knocking with the actually knocker so I just text him that I’m here. He opens the door within a few seconds.

“I thought you were going to be here earlier, Snow,” he says. 

“My mom had to make sure I was bundled up. It’s a nightmare out there.”

Baz takes a peak out the door as I step in and take my boots off. “You’re right. I’m surprised you aren’t frozen to death.”

I shrug, “You know I’m always warm.”

Baz laughs. I hang my coat on the rack next to the door. The house is even more extravagant on the inside than it is on the outside. I think his parents must have some fascination with the Victorian era because everything looks hundreds of years old, at least. The first time I was over his maid basically followed us around the house telling me what I could and couldn’t touch. Over the years I’ve gotten used to it.

Baz leads me to the television room where we would watch the countdown. He has the room set up with all our usual accommodations. We have chips and dip, cookies left over from Christmas, and my personal favorite, cherry scones. Baz always has to beg their cook to make them for me since I’m the only one who actually likes them. 

I sit down with a plate full of everything and a heaping of butter.

“Snow, I don’t know how you can eat so much butter. One day your metabolism is going to slow down, and you’ll weigh a thousand pounds,” Baz jokes.

“It will be worth it. Butter is always worth it.”

He sits down next to me, even though the couch is big enough for maybe six people. He’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of him. There’s a fire going in the fire place, crackling and illuminating his face. I look at him through the corner of my eye. He’s paying attention to the TV so I’m able to indulge myself on more than just food. His hair falls ever so lightly in his face, and with the fire, it casts shadows on his face a little darker than his natural skin tone. His grey eyes are a bit lighter than normal due to the fire’s light. 

He’s so beautiful. He’s always been beautiful. Everything about him is elegant. The way his nose frames his face, his perfect jaw. Even his calves are beautiful. I get quite a look when he plays football (he’s on the school team. Captain of course). 

He takes after his mother. She’s downright gorgeous. Terrifying as a principal, but still kind to me when I’m over. If I stay for dinner, she always asks if I want seconds. I don’t think his father likes me much. Apparently him and my dad didn’t get a long. They both belonged to differing political parties and used to get into it during rallies and such. When my dad left my mom, however, it seemed that Mr. Pitch started warming up to me. 

Looking at him confirms my decision to tell him how I feel. It all started when we were 15 at some kid in our class’s birthday party. We were playing spin the bottle, and it was my turn. I spun on Agatha Wellbelove, the most beautiful girl in our class. Possibly the whole school. I should have been excited, everyone was egging us on, but mostly I was just nervous. It was my first kiss. When she leaned in to kiss me the only thought I had was, “I wish she were Baz.” 

That’s the first time I knew.

Ever since then I’ve tried to push it down. To ignore it. But I can’t anymore. I told Baz I was gay when we were 16, that was the first step. He didn’t care thankfully. He’s actually been very supportive, even trying to set me up with dates, but I always refuse. I wonder if he’s ever questioned why. 

Suddenly, Baz moves closer to me. Sitting _right next to me._ His leg is touching mine. “I’m a bit cold, are you?”

“With this fire? Not at all.” I reply.

“Hmm. Guess it’s just me then.” He doesn’t move away. My heart is basically pounding out of my chest. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m fighting everything in me not to take his face in my hands and kiss him. I’ve thought about kissing him every day for two years. 

So, we continue to watch the New Year’s Eve coverage. Baz and I touching knees, every so often pushing on another very softly. Sometimes we meet eyes when something funny happens on the show. 

About a half hour until midnight Baz asks me, “What are your resolutions for next year?”

“I want to be more honest.” I say.

“Are you a liar now, Snow?”

“Ugh, no.” I slap him playfully. “I just want to be more honest about how I’m feeling. You know, like tell people what’s on my mind more often than just bottling it up.”

Baz responds, “You can always tell me everything, you know that.”

“I do.” But I don’t say anything else. My nerves are getting to me. “So what are your resolutions?”

“Hmm, let me think. I think I want to try and learn piano. I can play the violin all right.” 

I interrupt, “You can play more than ‘all right’, Basilton.” I like to throw out his full name when he’s being an idiot. He and I both know he’s the best violinist around.

“Well, thank you, but still. I think learning multiple instruments is important for one’s character.” I scoff at how posh that sounds, then I start laughing. Baz does too, and leans in to me. I think my heart stops for a moment. He pulls away after a second, resuming his previous position. 

Soon enough, the two minute countdown starts. Baz and I are both standing now. _It’s now or never, Simon_ , I think. 

“Baz, I want to start being honest now.”

“Now, Snow? The new year is about to start, I think it can wait two more minutes.”

I sigh. “No, it can’t. I’ve wanted to say this for two years. I don’t want to waste another year of not saying it.”

This stuns him. He’s facing me now, not the TV. The way he’s staring at me. so intently, full of questions, almost makes me chicken out, but I have to say this. I have to get it out. I build up the courage to get the words out.

“I, um, I have had feelings for your for some time now. Like romantic feelings. And I just wanted you to know because I didn’t want to start another year of not telling you and I just…” I don’t know what else to say, and luckily I don’t have to because Baz says, “Wait, you have a crush on _me_?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes I do, I’m sorry if it weirds you out. If you don’t want to talk to me anymore I understand.”

“Simon, you really are thick, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Fuck it, come here,” Then he pulls me to him, towering over him. He’s always been taller than me. We had our growth spurts at the same time, but he still grew taller. He cups my face like I’ve always wanted to do to him and kisses me full on. His mouth is hotter than I had imagined. As we’re kissing, I hear in the background the noises of celebration from the TV. It must be midnight. 

I can’t help but pull back and laugh. Baz looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“We just had our first New Year’s kiss.”

“So we did.” He kisses me again, softer this time. 

I pull back again, “Wait, you called me Simon.”

“No, I didn’t, Snow.”

Baz takes me to the couch where we wrap our arms around each other and continue kissing. We had two years to make up for. 

I realize this is our first New Year’s as a couple, and simultaneously our last as friends. I can’t help but laugh into Baz’s mouth. He smiles at me, then pulls me in for another kiss. 


End file.
